


Even in Those Days

by orphan_account



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Conflict, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, ghost jisung
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22653136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ten years after a tragedy, nine boys must finally address the causes for what tore their friendship apart.ORTen years after Han Jisung's death, Jisung returns as a ghost with the intentions to reunite his childhood friends. Inspired by "Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day"
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Everyone
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Even in Those Days

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of my vent fic, as many subjects that will be addressed relate to my own experiences. 
> 
> None of the actions or behaviors of Stray Kids & Kim Woojin in this fic reflect how I perceive them in real life. 
> 
> Thank you, and I hope you enjoy reading.

Chan has to be hallucinating. The heat of summer is unbearable. Electric fans whir in every corner of his house. His usual black tee is replaced with a white tank top. The freezer is left open for Chan to stick his head inside, basking in the relieving cold air. He's not sweating buckets like he was before, nor is he extremely dehydrated. But perhaps the summer heat has embedded itself too deeply into his home and into his brain, because Chan can see his dead childhood friend. The mirage of his former friend is incredibly realistic, nothing like the hazy images of water he's seen on asphalt roads. Chan blinks and shoves his head back into the freezer, closing the freezer door just enough to trap him in the soothing cool. There's no way this is happening. If this is his body's indication for an upcoming heat stroke, this is too cruel.

"What are you doing?" the illusion asks. Chan closes his eyes, trying his best to focus solely on the chill that encapsulates his head. "Chan, you're gonna melt the ice cream if you keep the freezer open too long!" Even though Chan is trying his best to ignore the talking hallucination, he grumbles and removes himself from the confines of the freezer and shuts the door (not before grabbing a frozen water bottle, of course). With eyes closed, he presses the bottle to his forehead and collapses onto the living room couch. He tries to brush off that he can hear feet padding behind him or a weight press itself into the cushions on the other end of the sofa. "Why aren't you talking to me? Chan?" Chan can hear the hallucination huff and cross its arms in frustration. "You got cotton in your ears?-"

"I'm actually going insane…" Chan finally comments. His eyes are still closed, and the water bottle is still firmly pressed to his forehead. "Hah, I should've drank more water today."

The illusion laughs. "Why? Is your pee too yellow?"

"Jisung! That's gross." And that's when Chan finally snaps. His eyes are open, staring right at the illusion of his deceased friend, Han Jisung. At least, Chan is pretty sure this is Han Jisung. He's just taller now (luckily, still shorter than Chan) and lost some of his baby fat, but this is definitely Han Jisung. He's wearing the same white tee with light wash overalls. Chan finds it cruel that he's seeing Jisung like this, that he's seeing Jisung  _ specifically _ like this. He may look older, but Chan can recognize that this is how he last saw Jisung before he… "I'm seeing things. God, I'm seeing things." Chan hears Jisung laugh again and mumble a little "yeah, me". He cranes his neck back, shutting his eyes for a minute before peering up at the ceiling. The water bottle is now dripping condensation onto his forehead. 

Jisung wobbles onto his feet to stand on the couch, looming right over Chan's face. Jisung really hasn't changed. It scares Chan that his brain could conjure up so much of a boy that died ten years ago. Jisung jumps off the couch when Chan flutters his eyes shut again. Chan can hear Jisung's clamor - his socked feet padding against tiles and the recognizable open and close of the freezer door. When Chan opens his eyes again, Jisung is right in front of him, struggling to open an ice pop. "I couldn't find your scissors." Chan shouldn't be entertaining this. He should've called it a day and passed out on his bed with a wet towel on his forehead and his room fan on high. But he gets up anyways and sighs. Jisung follows him, ice pop held tightly in his hands. Chan rummages through drawers and the utensil rack before finding the kitchen scissors. Jisung holds out the ice pop, and Chan quickly snips off the plastic top. He expects Jisung to start sucking away at the cold treat, to probably devour it in record time, considering Jisung used to go through a pack of them in a day. Instead, he's surprised when the ice pop is literally shoved into his mouth.

Chan gags before pulling the ice pop out to look at Jisung in confusion. "You looked like you needed one." Jisung answers, before whipping another ice pop from his back pocket. "This one's for me." He holds this one out as well, waiting for Chan to clip off the top. Jisung whines when Chan doesn't, instead taking the ice pop and chucking it back into the freezer. "Chan!"

"I need to see a doctor or something," Chan groans, smothering his face in the palms of his hands. "Maybe even a therapist." Just as he decides to trudge to his room and pretend none of this happened, Jisung grabs at his wrist and pulls. Jisung's never been that strong. When they were kids, Jisung was always the target during games of Red Rover -- so easy to push past and easy to capture. Thus, it takes Chan by surprise when Jisung can even manage to yank him back. Albeit partially due to Chan getting pulled back mid-step, the sudden jerk startles him out of his dismissive state. He doesn't mean to get irritated, but he does. And Chan's quick change in attitude shocks Jisung because younger Chan never lashed out. But the unforgiving world of adulthood weighed heavy on Chan, hardening his skin and souring his heart. "God, what do you want? Did I do something? Do you want something? Why are you here? Why now?" Chan barks out between gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.

Chan knows that if this is real, he's being one hell of a douche. Jisung isn't doing anything wrong. He simply wants Chan's attention, for Chan to actually talk to him. It's hilarious, because, when Chan first met Jisung, every moment revolved around the younger. Jisung was the little brother he'd yet to have (until Lucas was born). But now, it hurt to see him. Jisung's presence is a sore reminder of a past that was far better than the present and a future that never came to be. He feels like seeing Jisung is a punishment of sorts, for the crimes he's done in the past years to truly sever his friendship with the others. The others… Why couldn't Jisung have visited one of them? They took their chance to disassociate themselves the second an opportunity arose. It was Chan who held his ground until the end, who tried to keep their strings of fate knotted, unable to be pulled apart. Jisung should haunt them, not him. 

  
  


When Chan looks into Jisung's eyes, he immediately wants to console him, to pull Jisung closer and convince him that he wasn't mad. But Chan would be lying, because he really is. No matter how much he tries to push the anger onto himself, he's angry at Jisung for choosing him. Why him?

"I… don't know," Jisung admits. His shoulders slump, and his expression resembles that of a lost child. Really, that's what Jisung is. He may be taller; his voice may have deepened. But Jisung is the same kid from all those years ago, now left astray to wander in a world that moved on without him. "Channie, I didn't mean to make you mad. I can leave if you really want me to." Chan refuses the suggestion, no matter how much the dominating voice in his head screams to rid himself of this entity. But he continues towards his room in silence, only gesturing with two fingers for Jisung to follow. "It's different," Jisung notes upon entering. He spins in circles to take in every part of Chan's room. Superhero action figures no longer stood over the windowsill. The box of Chan's video games is gone, perhaps shoved into the deep crevices of the attic or given to Chan's younger siblings. The motifs of blue and red that once decorated Chan's room have been replaced with a monotonous grey. Despite how different it is, Jisung still feels so comfortable, even if Chan is acting on edge -- he's the same Channie (even if he doesn't realize it).

Chan lowers himself to sit on his bed. The ice pop clenched in his fist has quickly started to melt, nearly pooling out the plastic tube. He grimaces and drinks down the remaining slush. The plastic is crumpled and dropped into his mini trash can. He claps his hands on his bare knees, gaining Jisung's attention. The boy in overalls sits criss-cross at the foot of the bed, staring up at Chan in expectation. A sigh again. "There's got to be a reason why you're here, Jisung. Or at least why I'm seeing you. Whether that's heat stroke or stress." Chan feels like he's talking to his younger siblings. He partially wonders if Jisung's mind has aged along with his physical form. "Is there something you need? Something you have to finish? Something I can help you with?"

They sit there for a minute or two. Jisung mutters to himself as he tries to remember. His nose scrunches, and his mouth occasionally purses to one side or the other. It's cute. Jisung is really cute, just like he's always been. There's still some baby fat on his cheeks. His teeth are still a little crooked at the front, making him look like a bunny. Chan finds himself curious - his hand unconsciously reaching out to Jisung. He needs to confirm that he's there. He's real. That Jisung won't drift into thin air with a single touch. Chan never really believed in ghosts, but a part of him doesn't want Jisung to be like the ones in movies. No phasing through walls or people, no translucency, no scars left behind. Chan never saw Jisung's body after the incident, refused to attend the funeral despite his parents' insistence. His mind swims with questions for Jisung. But he's afraid to ask in fear of Jisung getting upset again. Again. But for now, Chan puts those concerns aside and retreats his hand.

Jisung opens his mouth wide, eyes widening as well as if he'd finally remembered his reason for appearing. Unfortunately, the momentum of the answer dissipates when Jisung blurts out a hasty "I really can't remember." He patiently waits for Chan's reply, occupying himself with pulling at the loose strings on his overalls and letting his eyes wander the room. Before Chan could even get an answer out, Jisung gasps and jumps to his feet. He nearly stumbles over Chan's laundry basket but manages to gain his balance just in time to point at the objects hanging in the corner of Chan's room. "You kept them!"

To anyone else, the mess of string, pipe cleaners, and paper would be considered trash, something made in the chaos of an elementary classroom. And to be honest, that's exactly what it was. Chan would never admit to anyone that he still liked this "trash" though. He really forgot it was there sometimes, if not for him occasionally running into it when he had to open his closet. The hanging objects were meant to be like a baby mobile. At the top is a messy, reinforced ring of pipe cleaners with nine strings tied together and wrapped around to span the circumference of the ring. At the end of each string are different crafts. Origami cats and dogs, pipe cleaner crafts, popsicle sticks glued into different shapes with various decorations, and toilet paper rolls crudely colored in markers to resemble spaceships. It's falling apart, perhaps only a couple more clashes with Chan's head before it breaks.

"I wonder if mine is still up…" Jisung admires each craft on the mobile, taking time to smile at all nine. His own isn't that special, just four popsicle sticks glued in different directions to look like an airplane. It probably would've been more exciting if he'd colored it more or came up with his own design instead of copying from the craft book. But it made him smile nonetheless. "Look, Channie, it's your worm!!" He holds up one of the crafts - a mess of twisted pipe cleaners in blue and red. 

"It's a snake." He shakes his head and pushes himself up from his bed to stand beside Jisung. "Yikes… this thing…" He taps mobile, watching it sway back and forth. "So old." Chan considers trashing it now, maybe taking seven of the nine crafts and snipping them off the mobile. It wouldn't matter anyways. The others weren't there anymore. It was just him and Jisung. It was just him. 

"Do you think everyone still has theirs?" Jisung asks. He doesn't catch the way Chan's expression has fallen, doesn't catch that Chan is clenching his fists again. Chan's even stepped away from the mobile, creating an unspoken barrier between himself and the past. "We all promised to keep them. Maybe that's why I'm here, to make sure you guys kept your promise. Well, Channie - check! We can go to Binnie's next-"

"Jisung, I don't think Changbin can see us right now." He walks away and flops onto his bed again, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his social media. Chan pretends that he isn't looking at Changbin's recent stories, posted only twenty minutes ago. Changbin is most definitely at home, "bored and hungry" according to the caption. "I don't think he'd want to see us."  _ I don't think he'd want to see me. _

He won't lie to Jisung completely. But Chan isn't exactly ready to open that conversation. He just saw Jisung today. He doesn't want to ruin this so early on. Chan looks up from his phone to see that Jisung isn't even in his room anymore. Hell, it looks like he wasn't even there at all. Chan drops his phone and bolts from his bed, searching all over his room. He even calls out to Jisung. Chan takes one more look at the lopsided mobile, wincing at the sight. Perhaps Chan really was hallucinating. Jisung wasn't there. Chan's reflecting on the past all on his own. Alone. It's just him. 

"Chan, I can't lock the door!" 

Chan's eyes widen, and he sprints out the room. He swiftly turns to see Jisung standing at the front door, shoes on and ready to go. Chan breathes out a sigh of relief. He composes himself and walks to Jisung's side. "Where are you going?"

"Binnie's! We went over this." Jisung bounces on his heels. "We have to check that he has his mobile."

"I told you that Changbin can't see us right now."

"Is he busy?"

"No."

"Is he not at home?"

"No, but-"

"Then why can't we see him?"

"Because we're not friends anymore!" Chan spits the words out like venom on his tongue. It hurts to admit it. "I haven't spoken to Changbin in years. We don't see each other. We don't meet. Changbin and I aren't friends. Felix, Hyunjin, Woojin, Seungmin, Minho, Jeongin - we're not friends!" He wants to say more, to come clean, to spill all his frustrations out. They hang at the tip of his tongue, ready to fire at any moment. Chan sucks in a shaky breath, and everything retracts. He doesn't dare to look at Jisung's face. "We can't see Changbin. We can't see any of them. It's different now. They're different now." Chan is different now. His unspoken truth gurgles in his stomach, unsettling and nearly causing bile to rise up Chan's throat from the guilt. But Chan is still selfish, still wants to keep Jisung on his side until everything comes gushing out. It's a little white lie. Chan knows it'll hurt in the end, would devastate Jisung if he found out, but for now, Chan can stay vague -- can voice the blame to the others before himself. It's vile, mean, manipulative - but Chan can't let it all unravel now. "Jisung, we just can't." 

Chan finally looks at Jisung and is surprised. He half expects Jisung to be visibly upset, maybe crying. But Jisung looks so blank, taken aback. He blinks a few times, mouth floundering a bit before he laughs. Chan can tell it's forced -- much too choppy and monotonous to be Jisung's real laugh. "Oh… I didn't know that. I really thought that was my wish." Jisung chews on his lip, staring at the front door. "That's okay. It's probably something else." He sinks to the floor and pulls off his shoes. The sound of defeat still lingers in his voice when Jisung runs past Chan and into his room, asking if Chan still has his old games.

Chan doesn't answer immediately. He also looks at the front door, contemplating, wondering the outcomes if he were to visit Changbin. He shakes his head, waving off the thought. Chan fixes Jisung's shoes, neatly placing them onto the shoe rack. He's just about to pad back to his room when a knock comes from the door. Without much thought, Chan opens the front door, completely deaf to Jisung's inquiry of who was there. Even if Chan did hear Jisung, he wouldn't be able to answer. 

The person standing on the front step feels just as unreal as Jisung did before. In fact, Chan considers them to be more of a hallucination than Jisung. He stands there, not a single word of exchange between him and the new arrival.

"Who's there?" Jisung asks again, peeking his head from Chan's room. 

"Earth to Chan," the person says, waving a stack of papers in Chan's face. "What? Are you high?"

"Lix! It's you!-"

Chan clears his throat. "I'm not high. It's just this heatwave." A grimace washes over his face, hiding away the confusion and surprise that was once there. Felix mirrors the expression. "Do you need something?" He tries to ignore Jisung's incessant rambling in the background about how much Felix has grown or how Felix's voice is miles deeper than he remembers. Chan scoffs, "I'm not going to stand here all day."

"It's homework," Felix replies bluntly. "If you're even planning on coming back this term. Your welcome." He shoves the stack into Chan's arms. Chan doesn't nearly fall over from Felix's shove. No, it's because Jisung manages to push past him and barrel right into Felix. The freckled boy grunts, also nearly falling back from Jisung's attack. "Jeez, what-"

"Jisung!"

"What? Can't I hug-"

"Jisung?" Felix looks at Chan like he's crazy. Maybe Chan is. "You're not having a heat stroke, are you? You okay? Chan?" Felix rotates his shoulders, unknowingly removing Jisung from embracing him. Felix reaches his hand out to Chan's forehead. The sudden concern from Felix should be a good thing. For once, Felix isn't grimacing back at Chan. But this only sets Chan off. Felix doesn't care. He didn't care then. He only cares now because… "Hey, do you need-"

"Lix, I'm fine." He states, swatting Felix's hand away. Lix. He hasn't called him that in so long. "I misspoke. Thanks for the homework."

"You mis- Nevermind. Bye." Felix wastes no time to turn on his heel, leaving Chan standing alone at the doorway.

"Lix! Wait! Lix!" Jisung calls, but Felix never turns around. He didn't even notice Jisung was there. "Chan, Chan, he was right there! You could've talked to him."

"It's not that easy," Chan groans. He rolls his eyes, "You wouldn't understand. None of us are on speaking terms."

"He just talked to you though! You were speaking. You're just being mean," Jisung stomps his feet, continuing to point in Felix's direction.

Chan scowled, "No. Jisung, you don't get it. Felix and I, Changbin and I -- all of us, we're all… They're different. They changed. It's not the same. We're not the same. You wouldn't know because you weren't there!" He fails to notice his voice raising, fails to notice the little old ladies that live next door coming out of their home to witness the ruckus. A nineteen year old boy, alone, yelling into the humid summer air. When Chan catches his breath, he realizes and flees back into the house. 

The door is shut behind him, though Chan doesn't lock it. He trudges to his room, chucking the stacks of paper into the garbage and throwing himself onto his bed. He closes his eyes, brows furrowed and breathes out a frustrated sigh. Chan picks up his phone and shoves away the unsettling feeling, just like he did before. And once again, it's just him.

Outside his home, Jisung still stands. His socked feet are uncomfortably warm on the pavement. He bites his lower lip and walks back to the house. Quietly, Jisung opens the door and grabs his shoes. He still can't lock the door, but he shuts it anyways. His shoes are pulled on, the straps on his overalls are adjusted again. Jisung glances behind him for a couple seconds, hoping that maybe Chan would walk out at any second. But Jisung is only met with the sound of buzzing cicadas in the distance and some moving cars.

Jisung walks on. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and feel free to leave kudos/comments/etc. for feedback, critiques, and more!


End file.
